


Enemy Mine

by GemmaRose



Series: Kinktober 2019 [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Bondage, Dom/sub, Fist Fights, Handcuffs, Hate Sex, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Valve Oral (Transformers), Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 12:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20975879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: Megatron and Optimus have... an arrangement.





	Enemy Mine

“On the berth.” Megatron ordered. Optimus’s helm turned slowly, and Megatron resisted the urge to smirk as hard blue optics met his. It was going to be one of _those_ nights. “I _said_, On. The. Berth.” he loaded his subglyphs with authority and threat, and loosed his field just enough for Optimus to feel the lust threading through it. The ex-Prime’s own field was unreadable, his shoulders stiff and brow furrowed. Behind his battlemask, Megatron was sure Optimus wore a stern frown.

“No.”

“Do you forget whose house you are in?” he asked, smirk spreading across his face as he stalked closer to the too-small desk where Optimus sat with a datapad. Surely nothing interesting, or at least nothing new. They had only what was in their subspaces when they came through the one-way portals to this world, and he knew for a fact Optimus had read every datapad in the manor at least twice. Orion kept track.

“No.” Optimus stood, shoulders squaring in preparation for a fight. One of the many reasons Megatron had decided to keep him, this slightly-off nemesis of his.

“I _can_ force you.” he reminded Optimus, and got an engine growl instead of a proper reply. He revved his own interstellar engines in response, pitching them lower, suggestive, the thrum running over his space-grade plating and surely resonating in Optimus’s struts and internals.

“Not without a fight.” Optimus reached for a weapon, and the pause as he remembered he’d been disarmed upon entering the manor was just long enough for Megatron to dart in and bury his fist in Optimus’s chest. His knuckles caught right under Optimus’s breastplate, in the slight gap where it still didn’t fit quite right over his breasts. Optimus staggered a step at the strike, but only a step, catching Megatron in the side when he stepped in for his next punch. Megatron extracted a pair of handcuffs from his subspace, confiscated from the Optimus’s own subspace when he was being introduced to Megatron’s household, and Optimus snarled as he lunged for another blow.

Megatron spat fuel, but didn’t have time to consider where it had come from before Optimus was on him again, all fists and fury. He blocked one punch with his forearm, caught another with his free hand, and snapped one end of the cuffs around that wrist. Optimus’s engine roared as he attempted to grapple Megatron, and Megatron threw him to the side with a grunt. Optimus stumbled, and Megatron tackled him to the ground, slamming his other wrist into the cuffs. Optimus glared at him, but at least he’d learnt that once the cuffs went on any struggle would only serve to drain his strength. Megatron pulled Optimus up with him by a hand on his collar faring, and relished the grunt Optimus made when Megatron threw him onto the berth.

“There, was that so hard?” he purred as he grabbed Optimus by the wrists, activating the magnet in the cuffs to affix them to the wall.

“Fine, you got me on the berth.” Optimus was scowling behind his mask, Megatron could tell. That was fine, it was no _fun_ if he wasn’t being recalcitrant about it. Megatron could feel the charge crackling in Optimus’s field, the lust he couldn’t quite fully mask under disdain and anger. “You’ll not get my panels open that easily.”

“Who said anything about your panels?” Megatron smirked, reaching into his subspace again and drawing out an electromagnetic vibrator. It latched onto Optimus’s modesty panel, strong enough to keep the transformation mechanisms from working, and he flicked it on to a low setting before moving up the berth, settling on his knees with his aft resting on Optimus’s windshield. “I can rip this off easily enough.” he traced his fingers along the upper edge of the battlemask Optimus wore at all times, and it snapped back to reveal Optimus’s handsome face.

“Enough with the threats, Megatron.” he snapped, and Megatron chuckled.

“I don’t make threats, Optimus.” he shifted forward, modesty panels retracting to bare his valve. “I make promises. Optimus made a muffled noise as megatron lowered himself onto the ex-Prime’s face, grinding his valve against those sculpted lips and letting Optimus’s plain nasal ridge press against his node. “And I promise, you will _sorely_ regret it if I have to leave this berth unsatisfied.”

Optimus growled, but the hatred in his field did a poor job of disguising his growing lust. Megatron purred as Optimus’s glossa traced just inside the rim of his valve, and briefly regretted his choice of where to affix Optimus’s cuffs when his thighs squeezed around sturdy arm plating instead of Optimus’s sensitive finials. Optimus moaned regardless though, and the slight vibration combined with a deeper plunge of his glossa had Megatron’s engines roaring. All that lecturing from Shockwave on minding the strength of this frame, on not breaking his officers by accident, and all the power he had to bear only made Optimus moan in pleasure.

Megatron reached back and grabbed near the base of one of Optimus’s windshield wipers, twisting to draw a cry from the ex-Prime. The sound of a transformation failing to engage made him smile, and he shifted to tweak the other wiper. Optimus’s field flared with fury and lust in equal measure, and he began to downright _assault_ Megatron’s valve. Strong, precise thrusts of his glossa against node clusters and scrapes of his denta against Megatron’s rim. Megatron’s engines purred, and when he rose slightly Optimus tilted his helm to wrap those lovely lips around his anterior node. Megatron hummed, and then his engines revver _hard_ when Optimus bit down on his node. Not hard enough to damage, but more than hard enough to send lightning shooting through Megatron’s sensornet.

He dropped back down onto Optimus’s face, grinding viciously against it as he chased his overload on Optimus’s glossa and the odd nudge from his nasal ridge. “You’ll have to do better than that.” he growled as his overload slipped away yet again, and Optimus’s lust spiked past his rage as Megatron’s fingers dug into his helm. Rocking his hips faster against Optimus’s face brought him closer, but it still wasn’t enough. Optimus’s engine revved as Megatron ground his node hard against his nasal ridge, and that did the trick, catapulting him into an overload which, while not bluescreen-inducing, was plenty satisfying.

He didn’t keep Optimus around for _good enough_ though, and when he had enough control over his hip and knee servos to not embarrass himself Megatron rose from Optimus’s face to give the ex-Prime a disappointed look. “Come now, Optimus. You can do better than that.” he grinned at the scowl that crossed Optimus’s lubricant-coated faceplates, and lowered himself again as he reached back to turn the panel-locking vibrator up a few notches. “Satisfy me properly and I may even let you overload.”

Optimus growled into his valve, and Megatron smirked as he resumed rocking his hips against the mech’s face, engines purring louder every time Optimus put his denta to use. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he teased, and Optimus jolted under him. “How long did we fight, in your universe? How many millennia of war did you force your Autobots to suffer through because you couldn’t admit to yourself that you _wanted_ to serve your greatest enemy?” he ground down into a scrape of Optimus’s denta, working his node in a rough circle against the mech’s nasal ridge. Optimus’s field flared with hatred and denial, but they weren’t enough to drown out the lust suffusing it.

Megatron’s laugh trailed off into a moan as Optimus targeted a cluster of nodes thus-far ignored, working his glossa over it again and again. “Perhaps I should keep you here.” he reached back again and turned the vibrator up another notch, drawing a low moan from Optimus that resonated beautifully in his valve lining. “Make sure you can’t forget how much you want this, want me pinning you down and taking whatever I please.”

Optimus’s engine whined unhealthily, fans jumping to a scream as his hips jerked up off the berth. Denial flared sharp in his field, and Megatron moaned loudly as he ground down on Optimus’s face again. “If you don’t want me, why did you fight so pathetically?” he taunted, resting a hand on the vibrator. “Why does your modesty panel keep trying to reveal your valve for me to ravage?” he twisted the dial on the vibrator up to its maximum setting, and Optimus arched almost completely off the berth, charge surging through his field and between the plates of his frame. “Did you just overload without even opening your panels?” Megatron laughed, rising up off of Optimus’s face to smirk down at him. Unfocused blue optics stared back at him, Optimus’s face slack for a brief moment while his processor rebooted, and Megatron’s smirk widened.

“I think, I’ll go satisfy myself.” he said, moving off the berth. His legs trembled under his weight, but only slightly. “We’ll see if your attitude has improved any by the time I’ve recovered.”

“Megatron!” Optimus shouted, rage and desperation hot in his field. Megatron chuckled and strode for the door. Let the ex-Prime rage. His fury would only make it more delicious to spike him later.


End file.
